


And We All Still Die

by Riripou



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Blood, Blood and Injury, Burr is kinda worried, Child Abuse, Cuties, Depressing, F/M, First Kiss, Henry Laurens's A+ Parenting, Herc is like there for three seconds, Hurt Alex, Hurt John, Hurt/Comfort, I have no idea what happened to the formating, I will try and fix that later, It ends well don't worry, John's dad was a dick, Kissing, Laf being awesome, Laf could be romancing but who knows, Laf is the friend everyone needs, M/M, Making Out, Modern Era, Most characters are just mentioned, Mutual Pining, My First AO3 Post, My poor hurt babies, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Poor Alex - Freeform, Poor John, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suicide Attempt, Texting, The fear of blood and wounds, Theo is a smol darling, Traumatophobia, Wounds, based on my own experiences
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 22:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8684992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riripou/pseuds/Riripou
Summary: What was love, anyway?He certainly didn’t know.What was it like to not feel regret every time he woke up, every time he thought of Eliza, thought of Maria, thought of Angelica, thought of his son, Phillip?It was his own fault anyway. It was his fault Phillip was dead.What was it like to be loved back?Because, he realised, he did know what it was like to love.Just, no one had ever loved him back.At least he wasn’t going to ruin anyone else’s life now, he smiled (But it was more of a grimace) to himself, the bottle dropping to the floor, his eyes gazing down at all the people below him. The people who were loved, who did love, who deserved to be loved.And, as he felt the cold wind biting his face, felt the blood drip down his arm, felt the vomit rise up in his throat, he heard the panicked, “Alex!” from outside his door, lost resolve, dropped to his knees and began to sob.What was it like to be rejected? Over and over? To do everything wrong, no matter how many chances he got? To not do anything right, even die?Now, those were things Alexander knew all the answers to.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic. I hope you enjoy. I like seeing my babies suffer. Woops. The French should be pretty easy to work out but if anyone asks I'll add translations. The French should be accurate because I've been ding it for many years but if you see any mistakes please tell me :D.  
> The title is from Willow Tree March by The Paper Kites.  
> Traumatophobia effects different people differently, but this is how it effects me personally.  
> I hope you enjoy!

He couldn’t take it anymore.  
Thoughts running a mile a minute, he felt the empty alcohol bottle slip from his hand, barely realising it as it happened.  
He made his way to the balcony of his house. The air was fresh, and cold. He breathed in a deep shaky breath of it, running a trembling hand through his unwashed hair.  
What was the point anymore? All he did was hurt people. Hurt the people he loved. His son, his beautiful baby, his Phillip, was dead. Dead before he could even walk.  
He remembered his happy baby smile, his feeling of pride and so much more while looking at this perfect human being he and Eliza had created. His gurgling, his freckles, his eyes.  
All gone. He forced back a sob. It was his fault anyway. He didn’t deserve to cry. His eyes grew moist all the same, the once bright and excited blue now a dull and pained picture.  
There were many cars and people below him. Rushing, laughing, breathing. Happy. Like they deserved to be.  
Not like him. His breathing picked up. He could feel his anxiety slowly take over his body, his shaking increasing, his stomach clenching, vomit rising to his mouth, the slow dripping of the blood from his right arm, and most of all he could feel his resolve weakening, his doubt, his fear, his overwhelming sadness all hitting him at full blast.  
He couldn’t do it.  
He was such a failure.  
He couldn’t even kill himself properly.  
He felt a laugh of pity and self-hatred get caught in his throat, and as he heard the yell of, “Alex!” from outside his door, it turned into a sob.  
He dropped to his knees, gripping the carpet with his left arm, the one that didn’t hurt. His right arm lay uselessly by his side, slowly staining the carpet red.  
His sob escalated, and soon he was wailing, tears flowing non-stop down his face, sob after sob wracking his body, his thoughts not even making sense any more, just random flashes of everything wrong that had happened in his life.  
His mother, his cousin, the hurricane, Eliza, Angelica, Maria, Philip, and, oh, god, he couldn’t take it! He wanted to run, but he was trapped, the dark walls of his mind closing in on him, his lungs screaming for air, his thoughts yelling at him, you missed your chance, you idiot! You failure! You-  
“Alex, please, where are you?! Are you hurt? Please, talk to me! Alex? I’m coming in! Please, please be okay…”  
Alex barely registered the voice, his senses being focused on everything else, everything else that wasn’t real, yet seemed to be, yet was the only thing that made sense, that he could understand, that-,  
“Alex! Oh my god! Alex, Alex! Please, stay with me! Is- Is that blood?! O-Okay, oh my god, okay- Focus on my voice, focus on me, Alex, it’s me, Alex. C’mon, Alex, don’t do this to me! Just… Please, Alex. Count to ten. Take deep breaths, Alex, c’mon. Count to ten. Follow my breathing. C’mon…”  
He felt a hand on his chest, soothing and familiar. His mind focused on it, using it to ground him to reality. He felt his right arm reach out for something, anything, anyone, and then it touched a chest.  
He gripped the shirt there, feeling the fast heartbeat though the skin, trying to focus his breathing, trying to escape the tall walls his mind had encased him in.  
“Breathe with me, Alex, that’s it. One, two -deep breaths, yeah? You can do it- three, four, good, good! That’s it. That’s it.”  
Alex could feel his sight become less blurry, more focused. He began to make out the figure who was speaking. He listened to the soothing words, felt them wash over him, the familiar tone he had heard so many times before.  
As he could feel his breathing slowly calm down, his mental panic faltering as he properly took the figure before him.  
“J-John?” He croaked, his voice cracking, before lurching into sobs again, this time into John’s shoulder as he was pulled into a comforting hug, John fiercely grasped him, rubbing soothing circles into his back.  
“Shh, it’s okay. I’m here. God, oh, god, please don’t ever do this again! I-I can’t see you like this, Alex, I can’t bear to see you like this! Please, don’t- don’t leave me. I couldn’t bear to see you gone, ‘Lex. I- Shh, shh, I’ve got you, Alex. I’ve got you,”  
“I-I’m sorry,” was all Alex could manage, the tears still flowing down his cheeks, but his sobs subsiding. “I-I couldn’t take it anymore, John, I- it was all my fault! Why do you even tolerate me when all I do is ruin everything? I-I can-t do anything right! I cheated on Eliza, I lied, I-I caused m-my, c-caused, oh, Phillip! I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean- I didn’t- I-!”  
He bit down on his hand to prevent a fresh wave of sobs, only to find it didn’t work very well, especially after John pulled it away to hold it gently in his own.  
Between the tears blurring his sight and the darkness of the room, Alex could see the sadness in John’s eyes, and most of all the fierceness.  
“Alex. Alex, Phillip was not your fault, no one blames you for that! Don’t even think about saying that it was one more time.”  
“But-“  
“Don’t Alex. God, if only you could see what I see, you’re so perfect, yet you don’t even know it yourself, and you hurt yourself so much, and you deserve any of it, and all I want to do is just show you, but I can’t, because-‘cause, that would ruin everything and you deserve so much better, even if you don’t know it, because, god, Alex, I love you, and you-I, you’re always off with Eliza, or Angelica, a-and, I love you, but, I-, I,”  
And, just like that, before he knew it, John was crying too, and Alex’s whole world had just flipped sideways. Every detail suddenly stood out in a vivid manner, the blood, still dripping slowly onto the carpet, the sweat accumulating on his neck, the cold air still blowing through the room, the rough feeling of the carpet on his knees, the soft feeling of John’s shirt, the way his breath was visible, the way his head was spinning, the way John was muttering, wide eyed and open in the way Alex knew he was nervous, the babbling of, ‘I love you’ over and over, the tear tracks down both John and his owns face, and the next thing he knew he was capturing John’s mouth in a kiss.  
And, in that moment, everything he had experienced so overwhelmingly seconds before had completely disappeared, leaving the only things left, him and John. John and him. The way his lips felt, the way his mouth felt, and the panting and the passion. They were the only things that existed in that moment, that mattered in that moment.  
The only things that had ever mattered.  
And then it was over.  
And they were left gazing at each other, breathing deeply, looking at each other with such deep love, such deep understanding, that it was only seconds, though it felt like years, before their lips connected again, in a desperate attempt to show their love, to express their feelings, to extract comfort from the other and make up for all the lost time.  
They broke apart again, but before they joined together again, they let their foreheads touch, their lips centimetres apart, and they just listened to each other breathing, and took in the other’s presence. John wiped away one of Alex’s tear tracks and began to whisper, ‘I love you’s over and over again, before gradually getting louder, an incredulous laugh bubbling to his lips, tears running down his cheeks, a grin splitting his face.  
Alex felt himself laughing too, unable to believe what was happening. He pressed a soft kiss to John’s lips before enveloping him in a hug, still crying even though he knew they weren’t really sad tears. Not anymore.  
“John…?” He said, voice shaky and slightly muffled, pressed into John’s shoulder.  
John responded by pulling back from the hug and looking into Alex’s eyes, happier than Alex had seen him in a while. “Yes?”  
He let out a breathy laugh before whispering with certainty, “I love you. I love you, too. I’d never thought you’d love me back. John, I love you, I love you. I-I can’t believe that- that you- I,” His voice has risen before becoming shaky towards the end, as his eyebrows scrunched up in frustration, and his eyes slowly started to glaze over, “I love y-“  
John, who had been listening to Alex’s spontaneous speech intently, half-thinking he was dreaming, suddenly snapped into action, becoming panicked, remembering why he had come here in the first place and the state he had found Alex in.  
“Alex!” He cried as Alex’s eyes flickered shut, his body going limp in John’s arms. John shook him gently but with urgency. “Alex!” he called again, his smile long gone as the name got caught in his throat as a sob.  
Alex’s eyes opened slightly and he took a shaky breath, another tear slipping from his left eye, before he managed to choke out a, “M-My arm, John. John. J-John!”  
John tried to soothingly place a kiss to Alex’s forehead before reaching for Alex’s sleeve, noticing a tear he hadn’t seen before that made his stomach clench. He slowly began to pull up the fabric with shaking hands, revealing a deep and swollen red gash splitting his arm almost in two.  
John felt like throwing up, but continued to pull the sleeve until it was all the way up. The blood was still swelling up, and John could see where it had soaked into the dark fabric of his jacket.  
“Oh my god. Oh my god. W-what happened, Alex, oh my god.” He asked with a shaking voice, the wound seeming to get worse with every second.  
Alex groaned, shifting his body weight slightly before wincing in pain. “Ah… S-Sorry, I-I, there was, I mean,” He coughed, “There was a knife and, I-I couldn’t, I needed it, John, I felt like- like shit, I needed to distract myself, John. John please, I’m sorry, I-,” And then he seemed to deflate, simultaneously whimpering in pain and fear of being rejected.  
John looked down at Alex opened-mouthed and shocked, feeling a rush of hatred at himself run through his body. How could he not have noticed this was how Alex was feeling? He could have prevented this, and now the man he had loved for so long was limp, crying and bleeding from a self-inflicted wound after almost killing himself.  
He sobbed, moving his hand to grip Alex’s tightly, before quickly reaching for his phone from his back pocket. He gripped it tightly, trying to control his shakiness, trying to ignore the feeling creeping slowly up his arm, immediately dialling an ambulance.  
After being assured one was coming to his location as soon as possible he began to make soothing noises to Alex, trying to calm him down as he swayed slightly. He decided to log into their group chat, feeling that his friends should know what was happening.  
frenchbaugette: r u sure about th@ burr  
smilemore: certainly  
smilemore: ;)  
tailoredspy: DID BURR JUST WINK  
iwillburnu: this indeed is a turn of events  
tailoredspy: UR NOT FREAKING OUT ENOUGH  
frenchbauguette: LMAOOO BURR  
frenchbaugette: HIGH FIVE  
feminismandchocolate: im confused but im going with the flow  
andpeg: dannnnkkkk  
smilemore: that wasn’t even me  
smilemore: it was my girlfriend  
tailoredspy: UM???  
feminismandchocolate: omG  
frenchbaugette: OH My  
iwillburnu: niceee  
andpeg: dannnnkkkk x2  
andpeg: but srsly nice one burr  
smilemore: thank you peggy  
smilemore: :)  
smilemore: her name is Theodosia  
tailoredspy: congrats dude???  
frenchbaugette: je l'expédie !!  
mydearlaurens logged in  
iwillburnu: hi john!!  
frenchbaugette: bonjour mon ami ;)  
tailoredspy: wassup my johnny boy  
feminisimandchocolate: hi john  
andpeg: o shit waddup!!  
smilemore: hello, john  
smilemore: where is alexander by the way?  
smilemore: I’ve not seen him since yesterday  
iwillburnu: that’s tru he’s not texted either  
iwillburnu: where my fav boy @  
andpeg: I thought I was ur fav boy!!  
andpeg: betrayal!!  
feminisimandchocolate: peg ur nonbinary  
andpeg: tru  
andpeg: u make a valid point  
mydearlaurens: guys something happened  
frenchbaugette: did u and alex finally make out  
mydearlaurens: yse but thats nt the point  
frenchbaugette: mon seul vrai appariement!!  
tailoredspy: NICE ONE DUDE  
tailoredspy: FIRST BURR NOW U  
andpeg: YES  
andpeg: I KNEW IT WAS CANON  
feminisminandchocolate: #lams2k16  
iwillburnu: yes!!!!!!!!!!  
smilemore: congrats :)  
mydearlaurens: please guys  
mydearlaurens: I dont knw wht to do  
mydearlaurens: theres an ambulance coming but thers like bloodeverywher e and I dont knw what tpo do im panicking  
iwillburnu: what happened?????  
andpeg: shit is alex okay??  
feminismandchocolate: what happened???????  
tailoredspy: what do u mean theres blood everywhere?  
tailoredspy: john!!! What happened  
tailoredspy: & r u okay? i know how u feel qbout blood and sruff  
frenchbaugette: je viens chez alex  
frenchbaugette: i was going anyway and now i’m worried as shit  
frenchbaugette : about both of you  
frenchbaugette: que s'est-il passé??  
mydearlaurens: there was a knife and a bottle nd I don’t knw but hes bleeding and hes not moving proplrely  
mydearlaurens: I thik its infected  
mydearlaurens: guys I don’t knpw what to do!!  
frenchbaugette: je suis presque là  
frenchbaugette: im nearly there  
mydearlaurens: thank syou laf  
iwillburnu: I’ll come too but theres a lot of traffic  
iwillburnu: im so worried please be okay guys  
taileredspy: I would come but im working  
tailoredspy: im so sorry  
tailoredspy: Please beokay!  
tailoredspy: I’ll come when my shift has fisnished  
feminismandchocolate: liza im coming to urs  
feminismandchocolate: alex better b okay or I will kill him  
andpeg: I’m like 5 states away  
andpeg: and in uni  
andpeg: im sorry but I cant come  
andpeg: ;-; please tell me what happens im worried for y’all  
smilemore: I am going to come too  
smilemore: im driving there now  
iwillburnu: don’t text and drive burr!!  
smilemore: he was at a light  
smilemore: this is Theodosia  
smilemore: im sorry about ur friend  
mydearlaurens has logged out  
John loves his friends, he really did, and he was eternally grateful for the support, but right now Alex was moaning in pain and whimpering, his uninjured arm gripping John as hard as he could, and the constant buzzing caused him to wince every time it sounded.  
“I didn’t mean to make it this deep, J-John- I- the knife slipped and, I, and- I realised, and instead of pulling out it went in, and, and, and John it hurts!” Alex wailed breathlessly, his grip on John panicked, loosening and tightening.  
“Shh, baby, Alex, please, focus on me, y-you’ll be fine, I know you didn’t mean it, Alex. P-Please! Please. Stay with me. I-I- the ambulance will be here soon.”  
John had never been good at stomaching wounds, and since he was young, seeing blood always made him queasy, and gunshot wounds and stab wounds made him feel like looking away, and he could always feel his eyes watering, his stomach flipping, no matter how often he told himself it was stupid.  
He had avoided movies with ‘graphic violence’ and horror movies like a disease, never so much looking at a drop of blood until his friends had convinced him to do a movie marathon on Halloween, a holiday John overall enjoyed, just not the gruesome sides.  
He had not wanted to ruin the night’s mood, so had agreed. At first the movies were mild, and he was fine, as he told himself over and over, trying to stomach the few injuries that had occurred.  
As soon as they delved deeper, watching a film where the protagonist arm was sliced completely through lengthways, John began to shake, feeling himself become to feel sick and tears to rise up in his eyes. His friends, who had clearly watched the movies many times before, were snickering, pointing out the bad prosthetics and acting.  
John, on the other hand couldn’t tell, and it all seemed real to him. His arm felt vulnerable, his neck felt vulnerable, everything felt vulnerable. He curled in on himself, trying to itch his arm even though the feeling was not an itch, it was a completely different feeling that he couldn’t describe, only that it would not go away, and then his vision was blurry, and his whole body was shaking, and his neck was curled in, and his hand was desperately clawing at his arm, trying to rub the feeling off, but it wouldn’t go and it wouldn’t go, and it was flailing in his panic, sobs being wrenched from his body, whimpers escaping with them.  
And then a hand on his shoulder, and worried faces in his vision. Soothing whispers, the sound of the movie completely silenced, just the soft voices that he couldn’t quite place, his hand digging into his arm so tight a bruise was beginning to form. At least when he was doing that the feeling was gone and he could feel pain, a feeling he knew, one he could place.  
A hand running through his hair- stopthefeelingstopitstopitstopitstopit-! Kisses on his forehead, a few murmured numbers, in English, in Spanish, in French- icantfocusicanticanticanticant-! Arms around him, several pairs, hesitant at first, but then confident, warm and safe and- yourenotsafenonononono-! More than one pair of arms, another on his shoulders, still whispering the numbers, one, two three- notanymoreyoucanfeelitlyoucanfeelityoucanfeelit-! Cuatro, cinco, seis, a hand softly moving to his, where it was still digging into his arm, stopping the feeling, and it slowly began to loosen his fingers- dontdothatitneedstostopdontdoitnonononono-! Sept, huit, neuf, his hand gone, gripping something else now, and the feeling was back again and he couldn’t- hecouln’thedidntlikethefeelingitwantniceitwasntgooditwasntfamiliarhewashurting-! One, two, three, it repeated. Numbers. Numbers that he knew from somewhere and that he knew, somehow, that he knew them. The feeling was still there but now gentle fingers soothingly rubbed there, cold but soft and familiar and the feeling didn’t like the cold and it didn’t like the kisses that were slowly being placed there, the soothing cold, the warmth that he felt, the panic slowly melting, the numbers he knew, somehow, and- and- andyoullgethurtyoudontlikepaindoyouthebloodissupposedtostayinsidenotlikeitwasandyou’llgethurt-! Cuatro, cinco, seis, sept, huit, neuf, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I’m sorry, one, two three.  
“…O-One, t-two-two, th-three,” Someone had said. He thinks it was himself.  
Good. Good. One, two, three, quarto, cinco seis, that’s it, I’m sorry, please, sept, huit, neuf, breathe in, it’s okay, you’re fine, I’m sorry, one, two, three, cuatro, cinco, seis-  
“C-C-Cuatro, cinco, s-seis,” He knew it was himself that time, trying to listen to the words, trying to ignore the feeling but it was still there it never went away easy it always stayed and it didn’t feel good and-  
Yes! John, c’mon, you can do it, I’m sorry, I didn’t know, we didn’t know, that’s it, one, two three, cuatro, cinco, seis-  
“Septhuitneuf,” He gasped in one breath, his mind becoming less slurred, his vision processing things slightly better but- butthefeelingsstillthereandtheresnothingyoucandooranyoneelsebecauseitmighthappentoyouandyoudontlikepanitsnotgoodandthefeelingisntgoodand-  
C’mon, c’mon! - One, two, three,-  
“O-one, two, three-,”  
That’s it, John, you can do it! – cuatro, cinco, seis,-  
“Cuatro, cinco, s-seis-,”  
The arms were warmer than he remembered, but the cold hands were still rubbing the feeling, taking it away, even though it lingered just below the cold, he knew it was there, it never went away, and it took him ages to forget when he remembered, when he saw the blood and the woundsandyoudontlikeitdoyoubecausebloodisbadbadbad-  
“Sept, huit, neuf!-,” He gasped by himself, breaking away from the dark walls of his mind, he didn’t like it there, the warmth and the cold were here and so were the arms and the voices and the kisses and the numbers, that he knew from somewhere, and he knew, somehow, that he knew them-  
One, two, three,-  
“One, two, three-,”  
Cuatro, cinco, seis-  
“Cuatro, cinco, seis-,”  
Sept, huit, neuf-  
“Sept, huit neuf-,”  
“Good- Good! John, you’re so good, come on, I know you can do it, please, I’m sorry-,”  
So it was a voice he knew? A voice, definitely. Not his voice, a different voice? An angel’s voice? No. He knew who’s voice it was, he knew it from somewhere, and he knew, somehow, that he knew it-  
“One, two, three,” He said, and he knew he had said it this time, he knew, because he could focus again, and he was speaking now and the feeling was being forgotten over the cold hands and the warm arms and the voice that was his and the voice that wasn’t and the numbers that he knew from somewhere, and how he knew, somehow, that he knew them-,  
“Cuatro, cinco, seis,” It was him again, his voice was less shaky, he could hear the numbers again, muttered by voices that weren’t his own, muttered by a voice that definitely was, and he knew who they belonged to, and he knew whose cold hands they were, and where the numbers came from and why he knew them and-  
“Sept, huit, neuf,” He almost sobbed into Alex’s arms, looking up at him as if he was seeing him for the first time. Seeing the concern, the worry, and he could hear the numbers that he knew he knew and where he knew them from, and he knew whose hands the cold was coming from, and whose arms the warmth was coming from and he knew and he knew and-  
“One, two, three,” Alex whispered, kissing his forehead,  
“One, two, three,” John repeated, and he knew he was back and he knew he understood but he also knew the feeling wouldn’t go for a while and he knew he should have said something and he knew it wasn’t real, but he still felt sick, he still felt like crying, and he still could feel the feeling on his arm which never retreated without a fight and-  
And the cold was pushing away the feeling, even though it wouldn’t last, and the warmth was making him feel loved, grounding him to reality, and the numbers and Alex made him know he was safe and he wasn’t hurt or bleeding and the cold and the warmth and the numbers and,-  
“Alex,” He said with a sob, kissing his cheek and wrapping the arm without the feeling around his neck, and clutching his back with an iron-clad grip, babbling almost incoherently his name, over and over,  
“Alex, Alex, Alex, Alex,” and Alex kissed his cheek back and began to comfort him with his voice, without the numbers, with words that meant nothing in a world that meant nothing in a universe that meant nothing, wherein everything that ever was meant nothing, yet in that moment, John felt like everything meant so much more, and if one day everything stopped, and if one day everything he had ever done would mean nothing, and anything anyone had ever done would mean nothing, he would happily give in if it meant he could always feel the cold and the warmth and the numbers and Alex and in that moment he couldn’t care less.  
“Yeah, John, it’s me, I’m here, I’m sorry, John, John, John, it’s okay, we’re here.”  
“S-S-Sorry-,” He sobbed, before turning his head to see Lafayette’s concerned face, his arms still wrapped around him, and Herc’s worried one, still rubbing his cold hands against the feeling chasing it away, for now.  
“I’m sorry!” He wailed, ripping free from the arms, the hands, Alex, and the warmth and the cold so now the feeling was back but he tried to ignore it because they didn’t deserve to have to put up with this, and if he hadn’t come they could have watched movies and laughed and had fun without him and he was crying again but he wasn’t panicking because they didn’t deserve that, they didn’t deserve it, and he could feel the sick feeling rising and the tears and the ‘I’m sorry’s and the feeling that wouldn’t go away-  
“John, mon ami, s’il vous plait, please, please, tell us what’s wrong,” And it was wrong because Lafayette shouldn’t sound like that, and Herc should never look that sad and Alex should never, never, have that look of utter stricken horror and sadness.  
“I’m sorry,” He said, “Je suis désolé,” and, “Lo siento,” and he couldn’t stop and his hand was digging into the feeling again, trying to chase it away, and he wished he wasn’t like this and he wished he didn’t have to burden his friends and Alex with him and with his problems and with this and he was bleeding under his hand now, and he could finally relax because his arm was taken over by the pain now, and he knew how that felt because it had happened before, and the feeling was gone now, finally, because the pain was there now and it felt better than the feeling ever had.  
And, for a few seconds, his eyes caught contact with his friends’ horrified faces before he dug his fingers in deeper and the pain was more intense and he felt a hysterical laugh bubbling at his lips, because the feeling was gone now and he was so happy, and he was crying now, and the feeling was gone and it was gone and-  
And then why it had stopped hit him like a brick. He glanced down at his blood covered hand in horror, and then to the gash he had dug into his own arm and even though the feeling was gone he was bleeding and he felt his breathing speed up again and he knew he was going to be sick this time, he could feel it rising in his throat and he couldn’t stop it, and then it was all over the floor and the blood was still there, even though the feeling was gone and-  
And he sobbed now, and he cried, and his arm flailed and he knew he was back to his senses because the feeling was gone but that didn’t help his absolute horror at his arm, and his sick, and his tears, and as he eased into the occasional hiccupping sob, he glanced up, only to see the sick cleaned up, and three concerned faces, looking like they wanted to help but they didn’t want to set him off again, and he knew he had found lucky with his friends this time, because they cared and he let out one last sob before lifting up his shaking arm, choking out-  
“I-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to, I-I, oh godohgodohg-god!” He chocked, panicking at the blood and the fact they had seen this- and he hadn’t wanted this to happen-  
“John,” And then hands and the cold and the warmth and Alex and he was bleeding-  
“John, please don’t do that. Please, what’s wrong?”  
“S-s-sorry!” He said again and again, tears blurring his vision.  
“Don’t cry, please! Please, John, we’re here, don’t worry. L-look, I’ll look at your arm, yeah? C-can I?” Alex asked worriedly, cautiously, approaching him slowly like a wounded animal.  
John couldn’t find in himself to be offended, instead nodding mutely and staring unresponsively at a point on the wall opposite him, not really registering what Alex was doing until he felt a bandage being wrapped around his arm.  
He blinked, and looked down at his arm in wonder. He wasn’t bleeding anymore and the soft feeling of the bandages on his arm was so soothing he could forget about the feeling and the pain and all he could do was launch himself into Alex’s arm and sob in thank, touching him to make sure he was real, and then meeting the eyes of Laf and Herc and letting out a half-laugh, half-sob before scrambling over to them, including them in the hug, because goddamn he had found it lucky with his friends and all he could was cry.  
And that was how he had first told the best people in his life about his condition, traumatophobia, which was something he’d always had, but had only been enhanced by his childhood experiences as Henry Laurens’s son, who had not been the greatest father, as a drastic understatement, yet had managed to keep an upholding reputation until John was 13 years old, which was when the police found out.  
He had spent that night the happiest he had been for a long time, surrounded by Herc and Laf and Alex and he felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in his life, like a huge weight had been lifted from his chest and he had never felt so satisfied.  
But right now, with Alex bleeding on the carpet, and his eyes fluttering, and his hands shaking, and he felt the worst parts of that day returning to him, but he couldn’t react like that, because Alex needed him and he couldn’t-  
“John!” And then Lafayette was there, his face the picture of worry, babbling incoherently in French, immediately kneeling by his side, kissing his forehead.  
“Mon ami, s’il vous plait, name cinq things you can see,” He said, rubbing his arm soothingly on his back.  
John blinked through the tears he had only just realised were there, and he scanned the room.  
“T-The carpet, um, y-your hair, A-Alex, um,”  
“Oui! Bien, John, deux more,”  
“The window and the-the table,” he managed, feeling pleased at Lafayette’s pleased face.  
“Alors, quatre things you can feel,”  
John forced himself to focus, before responding hesitantly,  
“Your hands, um, the carpet, the wind a-and my clothes,”  
“Tres bien, now trois things you can smell,” Laf whispered soothingly, now using his other hand to run it through John’s ponytail.  
“U-uhm, the air, y-your perfume and the air-freshener.” He responded, focusing harder on his surroundings.  
“Oui. Two things you can hear.”  
“Your voice. The wind.”  
“Et one thing you can taste.”  
“My spit.”  
And then Laf kissed him on the forehead, and took his hand.  
“Mon cher, did you ring an ambulance?” He asked carefully, to which John responded with a shaky nod, not looking at Alex in case he began to panic again. He could hear a soft groan, making his fist clench.  
“You did so well, mon cher, merci, merci,” Laf said, and John felt warm at the praise, touching foreheads with the man and staring at his eyes to distract himself.  
The next thing he knew the apartment door was slammed open and Burr walked into the room, followed by a shy-looking girl he had never seen before, who was clinging onto Burr’s arm and glancing around the apartment worriedly.  
“Alexander!” Burr exclaimed, to which Alex only replied with a weak whimper. John let out a chocked sob, lunging forward into Lafayette’s arms.  
Lafayette made ‘shush’ing noises, rubbing his back again, and John could only imagine him glaring at Burr.  
Burr let out a meek, “Sorry?” Before shuffling was heard and then an ambulance siren sounded and John almost collapsed in relief, clinging to Lafayette tighter instead.  
What happened next was a blur, and the next thing he knew he was in a hospital bed, Lafayette and the girl from earlier beside him.  
He blinked a few times, disorientated, and then rubbed his head.  
“…Laf?” He said meekly with a questioning tone. Lafayette looked at him sadly.  
“John. Alex is… okay. Mostly. He’ll be fine, physically, eventually. He’ll have a scar.”  
John nodded in acknowledgement, relief sweeping over him, before switching his gaze the young woman who was awkwardly sitting next to Laf one of the hospital chairs.  
“Um, if you don’t mind me asking…?” He intoned, looking straight at her curiously. She immediately snapped to attention.  
“Oh, um, sorry. Hi. I’m Theodosia, Aaron’s fiancée? I, um, I’m sorry about Alexander. Aarons up with him now, and the nurses said only one person could visit him at a time for now, so, um, I hope I can wait here? Is that okay?” She replied, fidgeting nervously with her hands throughout speaking.  
Lafayette’s head shot up to meet hers. “Fiancée?!” He exclaimed, shocked, “He said you were his girlfriend!”  
John felt similarly shocked. Not only was Burr now in a relationship, but he was getting married? Theodosia giggled, fidgeting now with the ring on her finger.  
“Did you not notice the rings? Anyway, he wanted to surprise you. It all happened so fast, we were so in love, and it sort of happened?” She explained.  
“Congratulations, madamemoiselle,” Laf said to her, smiling through his shock. “I hope you have a very happy marriage.” He added, kissing her hand.  
“May I ask how long? And how did it happen?” He intoned, head tilting curiously. She smiled.  
“Well, we knew each other as children, but went our separate ways as soon as school started. We recently reconnected, by change, I guess, about a year ago? We were friends for a while, I was dating an asshole back then, who was far too possessive.” She shifted a bit in her seat, looking uncomfortable.  
“Aaron and I decided to date secretly, but he found out and things got, um, bad. But! It ended up fine, and we were able to date properly after that, but Aaron didn’t really know how to tell you guys. As for the proposal… He proposed two weeks ago, and, of course, I said yes. So, yeah. Um, that’s what happened.”  
John processed the story, wincing at the mention of what he presumed was an abusive relationship. He’d been in enough to recognise them.  
“Congrats,” He said, smiling. He’d never have guessed Burr would be in a relationship, let alone a serious one, before now, but now he thought about it, he probably should have guessed. The signs were all there.  
Lafayette seemed to be thinking along the same lines, saying with a chuckle, “I guess that’s were mon ami has been going to every time he claimed he was ‘busy’.”  
Lafayette’s hands were softer than John remembered, he realised as Laf squeezed his gently, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb.  
“When can I go and see Alex?” He asked suddenly, almost panicked, gripping Laf’s hand tight. Laf continued to rub his hand soothingly.  
“Don’t worry, John. As soon as Burr finishes I’m sure that the nurses will let you visit him. Your only in here as a precaution, mon cher. Don’t worry, Alex will be okay.”  
John felt himself nodding, and then hugging Lafayette, head buried in his shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you, merci, thank you, Laf. Thank you.” And he was still holding Lafayette’s hand but now his other hand was wrapped around this beautiful man he was so glad to have had met.  
“Um, Theo?” were the words that made John look up, seeing Burr standing awkwardly at the doorway to his room. Theodosia immediately looked up, smiling.  
“Aaron! It’s good you’re here. John can go visit Alex now, right?” She said, now holding his hand. Burr nodded.  
“Um, yeah. He asked for you, John. He’s okay. He’s just sad. He said it was supposed to be Phillip’s birthday yesterday and that’s why he was sad,” he explained.  
John felt a sinking feeling settle in his stomach. Oh. That’s why. He should have paid attention to the dates, should have asked him, or even Eliza, he knew it was a sensitive subject, he should have known.  
“Don’t worry, mon cher. None of us knew. He kept to himself about Phillip, you know this. C’mon, I’ll help you get to his room.”  
And that’s how he ended up there, nervously waiting outside the door, knowing Alex was on the other side. Laf was standing next to him, nodding comfortingly. There was a nurse on his other side, who pushed open the door.  
“Come on, then. He’s been looking forward to a visit from ‘John’. I’m glad you’re feeling okay, sir.”  
He smiled at her gratefully, before stepping into the room and swallowing painfully.  
“John!” Came the exclamation from the bed, and there was Alex, smiling at him, heavy bandages on his arm, his face pale and looking wrong in a hospital bed.  
But he couldn’t help but smile back.  
“Alex,” he responded, happily. The nurse coughed, purposefully.  
“I’ll be outside. Call me if you need anything, boys.”  
They both nodded, as then she left and they were alone together.  
“John.”  
“Alex.”  
And they understood. They understood that they were both broken, they both had problems, and they both knew. They knew each other. They knew better than anyone else. They knew.  
And they understood.  
“I love you, Alex.” He said.  
“I love you, too,” he replied.  
And then it was silent.  
And then nothing was said.  
And then a hand on a hand, a lip on a lip, a soft kiss of understanding, intertwined fingers and a shared love.  
And nothing was said.  
And nothing needed to be said.  
Because they both understood.


End file.
